The New Beginning: Nunsignor Book I
by NxnsxgnorsDxmon
Summary: Jude lost almost everything but not the hope of being rescued. Timothy keeps his promises as he resigns from the church, flee along from Briarcliff's morbid madness and at last but not least, moving somewhere to create their own family and spend the rest of their days as family people. How their lives will change? Will they accomplish genuine happiness together?
1. Briarcliff's Escape

December's days were elapsing as slowly as the tumbling snowflakes, outside the grand, old asylum in the Boston outskirts especially in Jude's case.

The former Nazi war criminal, known as the doctor of science, 's spontaneous, odd disappearance was mysterious for Timothy, whilst the once favorite young nun of Jude and Arthur, Mary Eunice passed away, as a result of giving up to resume her life by allowing Shachath to take 2 souls with herself. The devil's which once dwelled in the fragile, taintless sister of the church, who joined the church scarcely in her late teens and the fiendish soul, which tormented her body by commanding it to do unspeakable, diabolical things against the others' wills and their expectations since she was known as the purest and least harmless soul in the mental institution. It vibrantly contrasted with the gloomy nuthouse's atmosphere which highly affected its jailed lunatics and staff members' demeanors. The criminally insane patients wore masks of glassy, emotionless faces which expressed nothing as an emotion than just their sorrow and grotesque frowns, cradling their once waxen lips that smiled. Furthermore, the juvenile nun's soul was in Shachath's gloved hands as soon as she kissed with her bloody red lips her recent victim of her kiss of the death. Her soul was richness of goodwill and undeniable purity, which somebody rarely would possess and wear it smugly as an armor, liting up their egos. She was just gone.

Shortly after the juvenile woman of the cloth's death, Jude mourned over her death as she was deemed as her daughter figure by giving her piece of advice as always, encouraging her and disproving the blunt inner voices, which lingered on her tongue by convincing to spit it out even if she has done the pettiest, dumbest mistake ever. _Stupid_ was the adjective which the young blonde framed herself as usually after she has done the pettiest mistake by regretting her personal decision or action, which exasperated her mentor. Despite the fact, the former promiscuous nightclub singer always lived with the relentless, dismal circumstance of being infertile and empty, nonetheless Mary Eunice was her ray of hope and happiness.

Swarm of snowflakes tumbled down as they blanketed in white as snow everything in the mid-December days. Dim sun rays bathed in dim light the pile of snow, despite the chilly wind which whirled in the air as the weather didn't warm at all.

The Monsignor, who was now the head of Briarcliff was sitting in the austere, old-fashioned former Jude's office by reviewing once again his former lover's patient file though he was supposed to return it back in the bottom drawer with the rest of the other patients' a quarter an hour ago. He just couldn't. Something urged him to leave his right hand's file, laying motionlessly on the hardwood, coated in dust bureau. Remorses gapped his heart as scars, tormenting him not just for hours. The hours turned into days and the days into a few weeks.

A brief biography and the reason why she was committed as a patient were not only visible in the corner of his eye, but also her mugshot on the top of the document. They were rather 2 in black and white. His trembling fingers timidly reached up for her mugshot photo, tipping it gingerly by imagining her porcelain, parchment once silken as satin complexion, layer of filth, lack of hygiene and glee layers greazed it though it didn't change his opinion on her physical looks. Her once lion mane of old Hollywood, sheeny golden curls which ideally framed her pure, angelic face, were smeared in filth and unkempt condition as they lost its glossiness. Hazelish-brown pools darted directly to the camera glinted sadness and unemotionality. Her mugshot was peculiarly haunting him, already picturing the words of the stark, ugly truth which zinged her naturally rosy-coloured lips by confronting him in the common room. They were as honed arrows as the demon's unsatiable, inescapable sins which sweetly poured its sinful potion in his heart to relish the sip of the sinful beverage, howsoever, affecting his morality and solemn vows.

 _"Have you fully recognized the irony here? You relinquished your virtue not to a loving woman, but to the Devil." One of her brittle, petite hands pawed the new jukebox, which was the new entertaiment in the common room since the former sister of the church demolished with her both bare hands the Dominique song's gramophone disk on abundance of pieces. Her voice tone was as calm as sarcastic in the same time. The administrator of the mental hospital's chocolate brown orbs were darted to her face as he paid absently attention to her speech, in spite of his lack of belief in her monologues as if he listened to the speech of a madwoman, instead of his Jude. His rara avis._

 _"It's so perfect. It's perfect, it's perfect." The younger man was opting to evade her by walking away from her though she didn't give up easily by spinning around the lacquered tall column, gripping it with one of her hands, gritting her teeth as the blood vigorously boiled in her veins._

 _"I don't want to hear you talk like this." The revered man of the cloth was approaching one of the seats as their proximity was increasing. "I don't know this person." He sat on the wooden chair, replying dryly, softly as a wry chuckle escaped his berry-coloured lips, meanwhile, she faked her tempting, smug facial expression which she wore by transfixing her honey brown orbs, fueled with sore, unhealed wound of his betrayal glistening her irises._

 _"What have you decided to do?" Her sole free hand shifted down to the table by pawing it as her other one was bracing the polished column. First rhetorical question bewildered him since he could never imagine the love of his life or rather his former love interest's speech to be as emphatic as now. She was always soft, demure and bashful around him as a schoolgirl just before she lost everything and her clerical title, possessions were no longer in her hands. His milky temple creased at her unbelievable, peculiar declaration. In the interval, he pursed his lips by furrowing quzzically his eyebrows in a pair of befuddlement. "Renounce your vows?"_

 _In the meantime, he averted his stare from her by thinking rationally to riposte her. At the moment, the remorses weren't severely affecting medicament for his ego, whose radiant light resurrected it unlike his guilty consience after losing drastically trust in his favorite former nun._

 _"Not at all. I'm going to stay the course." Meantime, the inmate shifted her position from the right to the left by strolling up to her once favorite priest, whom they shared together a celestial dream by becoming a Pope and a Mother Superior as they pass sea of nuns, addressing them with their revered, ecclesiatical titles by stepping on the crimson red aisle of the divine realm of their miracle. "I have too much to give, too much to offer. I can't just throw it all away." A couple of inches gapped their proximity as her face grimaced as a frustrated frown blossomed upon her grimaced face._

 _"I thought you hung the moon, Timothy. I had impure thoughts, I'll admit to that. But I would have done anything for you, I would've done anything you asked me to do, that's how much I believed in your fantasy of the magic carpet ride to Rome." The middle-aged lady made a revelation, which lingered on her tongue for a long time to spill the tea in front of Timothy, in spite of the God's judgmental glares she'd earn by the time she was a devotional servant of God and the church back then. Embarrassment was tattooed on his pale as ghost complexion._

As soon as his train carriages of thoughts railed briskly, buzzing by recalling readily her words which haunted him more than his remorses, mellow, honeyed whisper danced in his oral caverns, verging to mumble it.

"Rare bird? I'll do everything to get you out of this hellhole." He allowed himself to blink frequently for a while as his brittle eyelids' were pooled with dew as tears betrayed to sprung up into his eyeballs. His heart sunk by contemplating the mug shot of the despaired blonde as the bliss wasn't imprinted on this picture, contrasting her charming, extraordinarily beaming smiles which honed up in the corners of her lips then. Yet he could never erase them as tracks of memories of his rara avis, who he messed up by stripping her off the clergy and wipping off the smile of her face that was imprinted on her complexion every time they encountered one another. "I promise I'll do everything for you. Just for you to be happy and radiant again as I can remember! I'm deeply sorry. I'm sorry!" The bitter tears gushed down his creamy, milky as vanilla cheeks by soaking the patient's file in razor-thin dew. A thumb of his solely free hand wiped away the gushing down tears, sobbing and sniffling to himself by allowing his ultimate sorrow erupt.

It was already 9 o'clock in the morning as the patients were already supposed to be released from their wards for breakfast and afterwards reside the common room by doing variety of activities to fill their time whether until their release or their destined death without having any family members or relatives, grieving over their death.

Further, the English aristocrat woke up in the wee hours of the morning, due to his hectic schedule and taking his time to pack up Jude's paraphernalia in a box from the Holy Bible to her worn, satin ravishing red slip which he hasn't donated, nor sold.

The day before, he had a grave discussion with Jude in the kitchen by informing the patients to leave both of them to discuss some important things as the essential topics included her release, his resignation of the church and taking their lives in much different direction. Namely spend the rest of their days in Timothy's owned private property in Boston's countryside outskirts which was far away from Briarcliff and its chilling to bones horrors. Initially, the blonde was beyond flabbergasted even befuddled by his own decision to give up his celestial, golden, Rome dream by looking after her and escape along on the morning after. Abundance of questions flooded her perplexed mind which died on her tongue to pose them. At first, she thought he was teasing with her until he gravely promised her to get her out as soon as possible, besides arranging her release to be circa the late hours of the morning by awaiting for him in the common room.

After the tornado of horrors he spellbinded her with false hopes and almost unforgiving betrayal, nonetheless the blonde's chances of believing his promise diminished with each elapsing hour, besides the member of the clergy was prone to significantly change the things in no time as his rationality chimed him to aid his rare bird by resigning from the church, flee the asylum's dull walls for better.

 _\- A Few Hours Later or So -_

A few hours have passed since Jude came to her senses by having breakfast nothing than just a deceased patient's blood and poor quality dish, which were the common breakfast meals for each inmate, who was jailed.

The former nun was seating by herself in the common room, crossing one of her yet drop-dead gorgeous, slender legs by taking a drag at her cigar, thereafter blowing dim carelessly. Hive of lunatics encompassed her whether by banging their heads recklessly in the brick wall, babbling, participating in impulsive, irrational physical fights or smoking cigarettes. Even though their babbles floated in the sufficiently expansive room which housed galore patients, however, the jukebox's song was recently playing a cheerful song, brightly contrasting the room and in general facility's ambience. Honey brown orbs stared emotionlessly into the brick walls and her surroundings as the hours turned into days, perhaps into months, years or most of all, centuries. She didn't even have any clue what time it was right now.

" _Hold me close and hold me fast! The magic spell you cast! This is la vie en rose!_ " Louis Amstrong's vintage song La Vie en Rose was momentarily playing on the jukebox, although it brought the former lincentious jazz nightclub singer's painful memories of her former lover, mingling with the song's lyrics as the realm of her reverie allowed her to drown herself in the mist, deep seas of her imagination, where impure thoughts were resurfacing as icebergs. The reverie of him taking her into his strong arms by snuggling and watching along the twinkling ocean of stars in the nocturnal sky under the moonlight were partly of her fanciful romantic, old Hollywood film played its scenes. Tantalitizing her mind. Indeed, the man of the cloth was not only her last hope, moreover he was her Achilles' Feet!

Meanwhile her lips pouted as partly the song's line jingled in her ears by sighing.

All of a sudden, the common's room double doors opened as the younger man was walking towards the blonde by drawing her attention, transfixing her gape at his as her mouth was agape.

"He kept his promise?" A rhetorical question echoed in her mind by widening her pair of hazelish-brown irises.

"T-Timothy!" The former sister of the church murmured timidly as soon as he offered her a benevolent smile.

" _When you kiss me, Heaven sighs and though I close my eyes! I see la vie en rose!_ "

"Good morning, Jude!" He placed his mammoth, surprsingly warm hand on the top of her shoulder by ushering her to get from her seat as she took a final drag of her cigarette, before stubbing it out in the ashtray.

"Morning, Timothy!" At the moment, he took off his thick coat by drapping it on her shoulders as he dangled a muscular, strong arm around her shoulder as she was accompanying him out of the common room. She obediantly held the coat by the lapels, without peeling like a snake of her frail, trembling of the cold climate skeleton as she was dressed up in nothing more than her amber cardigan and stone blue patient, rigid gown. "Why thank you!" She expressed her gratitude as they were pacing in the long, abysmal hallway of Briarcliff. Slight, radiant smile curled up in the corner of her lips.

"No need to thank me! In addition to, your belongings are packed in my cab as we're about to leave immediately."

Handful of minutes later they've already flew by passing the double front door of the old nuthouse by heading towards the parked vehicle past the stone massive as the glacial wind blew in the both adults' faces. Blush and searing heat crept underneath Jude's cheeks by bobbing her head by opting to eschew from the perky, invisible waves of the wind which whacked her complexion.

Shortly before he unlocked the back passenger's car door, hence, he pulled her in a tight, warm hug by pecking a tender kiss on her forehead as she couldn't throw her arms around his shoulders, to double the absorbedness of mutual warmness. How long it has been since somebody has kissed her any inch of her flesh especially a representative of the opposite sex? She has longed for tenderness and she has the least expected it from her former lover.

The older woman's heart raced as it leaped, relishing the moment of his soft, berry-coloured lips scooping her forehead's skin, shutting her eyelids until he unlocked the vehicle by opening the door for her to step inside and laying down to nap. She held yet the drapped black, thick velvet coat as he closed the passenger's back door by getting inside the car by seating the driver's seat.

"Everything's going to be alright, rare bird! All you need is a good rest, while I'm driving to our new home." In the interim, he turned to the blonde by extending his hand to cup her cheek in the palm of his smooth, warm hand, in order to soothe her as their eyes met, locking up her stare. She found his serene, sincere smile and the cupped cheek of hers in his hand for more alleviating. Fondness sleeved by electroshocking her body. "It won't take a long time, okay?" She nodded her head, affirming his words. "Alright! Relax, Jude!" In this moment, he turned to his side by starting the car engine as he commenced driving his car by fleeing the asylum's area within several seconds.

Whilst Timothy was utterly focused on the driving process, Jude's eyelids built its ounce by emitting a casual yawn, seconds before falling asleep and closing her eyes, relishing the moment of the catnap.

 _ **To be continued...**_


	2. Nightmare's Darkness

_Prayers were recited in murmur, whilst the eyelids were clutched shut as the lit up candle holders with it's a handful of candles, illuminating the dim light austere office of the nun in the wee hours of the night. The silhouette of the middle-aged woman was reflected on the wall, due to the candles by ducking her head in the cordial, regular prayer._

 _The sound of opening door by shutting it behind the mysterious figure which gave chills to the sister of the church, ushered her to tilt her head as her eyelids' slits were opened. Horrified frown was tattooed upon her porcelain, pale as snow complexion as foreboding and prejudices were painted as an illustration naturally across her facial expression. The grim picture of the fear and deviation of the safety were illustrated altogether. Goosebumps trimmed her mossy, soft as peach skin underneath her conservative, wool habit and the heavily, frequently throbbing in apprehension heart beats varnished her frail heart._

 _Seconds of hesitancy flooded her mind whether to turn to and confront the mysterious figure of the uninvited visitor in her office or otherwise let the prejudices and her fear consume her being._

 _As soon as she turned to her office glassy mosaic door, the suddenness of noting the murderous Santa Claus in her office in the middle of the night affrighted her as she felt her bones quivering underneath her flesh. A couple of questions pooled her mind as the first one lingered right away on her tongue._

 _"What are you doing here?" The blonde questioned the serial killer beyond calmly with hints of jitters by transfixing her stare into him, due to the terror he caused with his presence._

 _"I'm here to open my present!" He replied with a tad pride, waxing his words as its sparks of angst glistened past his recent victim._

 _In the meanwhile, the young possessed by the devil nun locked her mentor's office by twisting the key, ultimately trapping her in the genuine hell. In the claws of the vicious murderous Santa Claus. The click of the locking door jingled unmelodic tunes in the elder nun's ears as her attention was utterly paid to the predatory inmate, disguised as Santa Claus._

 _"Ho, ho, ho!" At the moment, he ambled up to her by opting to cow her with his gruesome gait and demeanor, despite she sped up to the locked door, whilst he seated on her cherry wood bureau, contemplating her._

 _"Dr. Arden, open this door!" The former promiscuous nightclub singer rapped on the door with balled fist, emitting sound of somebody to unlock the door by opening it and rescue her from the psychotic lunatic, who was now in her office and sending chills her bones and body of disgust and panic. Leigh gathered the letter opener in one of his hands._

 _"I'd put the lion's share of blame on that sexy Little Sister. She really doesn't like you." Leigh replied by gingerly playing with the letter opener, whereas Jude's honey brown pools which were filled with disgust and fear were darted to the murderous Santa Claus as her mouth was mildly agape._

 _"What's all this about?"_

 _"You left me in that hole to rot." He aimed the letter opener's silver edge to her as if it was directly pointed at her._

 _"But you're out now. Anything is possible. Let me pray with you!" He narrowed his eyes at her words as she timidly uttered the caution._

 _"I think I'd rather tell you about my fantasies, like the one where I jam this gigantic crucifix up your ass," He left the letter opener on the hardwood, covered in a tad dust desk the razor as he got from the seat, confessing his abominable fantasies with the elder nun. "Or the other one where I take my rotting teeth and my foul-breathed mouth and chomp down on your dried-up," The apprehension drastically transformed into loath and exceeding terror as her heart raced once he got from the desk by strolling up to her in gruesome gait, in order to scare the living daylights out of her even with the merest manner of his. Their distance was closing as the elder man was approaching the blonde, who held her both hands. Meanwhile, as Leigh's monologue advanced, he imitated with his mammoth, filth and poor hygienically layering hands claws of a vicious beast by ravaging his prey's flesh with ease, bobbing his head._

 _"Help me! Please!" Her palm rapped on the door, in order to somebody hear her pleas and at least unlock the office's door by rescuing her from Leigh, despite Mary Eunice and Arthur Arden stood in the hallway by doing nothing than just relishing the horrid scene of the tormented middle-aged lady. In this moment, Leigh had the ultimate opportunity to mortify her even more as the foul shame, guilt and disgust were on the very top emotions, brewing inside her as a black coffee._

 _"Oh, Sister, where's your sense of Christmas spirit?" He posed the question in slightly agitated and joyous way as if his joy bear a semblance of a child on the Christmas morning, who have just received his Christmas present. "I'm just beginning to feel the comfort and joy!" He imitated a boxer by clutching his palms into balled fists, in order to jab Jude in teasing manner, punching her._

 _"Help me! Dear God, someone help me! Anyone, help me!"_

 _Her emotional protests abided unheard and overlooked as if they resembled a whisper in the desert, dancing on her tongue by wedging its voice decibels._

 _At the moment, the possessed juvenile holy woman yanked the key from the key lock by walking away, leaving her mentor all alone in the office with nobody else than her predator._

 _"It's just you and me, Sister." In the meantime, Jude sat on the flooring by reclining on the light yellow wall by lightly bobbing her head as the serial killer leaned against her. The back of her hand wiped her nose as dew of perspiration layered her complexion. "God's off having schnapps with the nice Santa." She swallowed hard at his words._

 _"I'm not the enemy."_

 _"You're not the only enemy, you just happen to be the one I'm focusing on right now." The grip of Leigh's hands by grasping her as their proximity closed, scarcely gapping as whirlpool of franticness whirled her mind and the facial expression on her complexion. Their gazes met as his darkened sapphire blue pools were staring right at her soul by opting to not keep the flame of warmness, hopes kindle in her irises. "Whee!" He spun her as her body slugging against the polished armoire with the collection of canes' door, collapsing on the floor._

 _In the meanwhile, the armoire's double door opened as a collection of canes, whether thick or thin, drew promptly the serial killer's azure blue eyes which were filled with childish euphoria and hysterical jones to torment even more his recent victim._

 _Graphic, explicit images of year ago when he was canned by his favorite nun dawned as they smeared the pain he experienced into his vision. His mouth was mildly agape at the view of abundance of canes, which are used as a method of disciplining rebellious patients, despite their vices he has already put himself in their shoes by figuring out the sore pain of the hardwood, thick even lacquered exquisitely whip contacting the stark skin of his bum._

 _He used to feel this pain but he has already fantasized how it might feel to cane a nun especially his tormentor as his pride is gleamed by the light projectors of his revenge he has plotted since she had treated him harshly, numbering the security guard Frank._

 _"I take that back. Maybe God is here, and..."He approached the armoire as the opulent choice of whips gave him the opportunity to choose by evading the half conscious body of the sister of the_ _church. He picked up one of the canes with its twisted ending, resembling a spiral. "He's giving me a sign." He set a foot on the right side of Jude as she vaguely rose her head up, gasping in muffled, hoarsely pain._ _Shortly before that he scrutinized cautiously his weapon for his plotted revenge and torment._

 _"My welts never healed. No sunlight, no medicine, no bathing, and you never, ever checked on me! Not once! They're putrid now." Meanwhile, he commenced to drag her by her back by maneuvering her to the desk as she creeped timidly, allowing his physical strength commanding her body as she gasped reluctantly, bending on her hardwood desk as he held the cane in the other hand. "They're seeping pus!" The murderous Santa lisped beyond lividly as the blood ferociously boiled in his veins, due to the stashed ire which brewed inside him by spewing his adrenaline on the middle-aged lady._

 _"Maybe I'll have you lick them after I'm done, huh? Remember what you said? Huh?" He withdrew the whip seconds before whipping her exposed rear by lifting up the rigid, dark habit's hem as her hands gripped the bureau._

 _Flashback of her words by explaining to him God doesn't have to work hard to enter him with his light were imprinted like patches, sewed into his tattered mind._

 _"Guess what? There is no God. But there is a Santa Claus."_ Leigh began whipping her rear as she gathered discreetly the letter opener.

 _The whipping process's pain escalated to sorer and searing as soon as the whip brushed her bum's bare skin which was shielded by her satin's bloody red slip. Initially, she flinched when the first whip was reckoned pensively as if children were jumping on the rope and their rejoicing screams spread like eerily cheerful tunes in the background._

 _A handful of canes have already welted her bare rear though he thrummed inwardly to himself once the ravishing red lingerie caught his eye as if he was a bull. He knew right away the nun wasn't a virgin anymore due to the unholy lingerie, which hugged her slender, nevertheless indisputably attractive with its ageless and swan curves, highlighting her body muscles._ _At last but not least, the suitable sobriquet flooded his mind to portray her after noticing the provocative sultry, bright red silky, lacy slip. His lip curled by whispering after the 4th whip:_

 _"Whore! I don't know who do you plan to seduce, however, my guesses could be either your goody two shoes security guard who licks yar heels or," He paused by clearing his dry, soar throat after starving and not drinking a fresh, cool water to resurrect his body and organs from the barrens. "Or your favorite Monsignor as I'm starting to think he doesn't know a holy whore is coming with him in Rome. And the nuns address her Mother Superior since he's the Pope and don't figure out who's standing next to the Pope." Leigh exclaimed in jeering manner as a hysterical snigger quivered in the corners of his foul-breathed mouth. She vaguely jumped after the 5th cane._

 _In this moment, the sister of the church abided quiet as she felt impotent to halt her worst nightmare which was in her office. Right here. Right now._

 _She swallowed hard after the shame and guilt concreting her hear, factly, he exposed her pettiest and most forbidden secrets. Wearing the lingerie for nobody else than her favorite priest whom she wore it on every Friday coq-au-vin dinner night. Panic was painted upon her porcelain, sanguinely tinted complexion. The heart beats' frequency encumbered her as she sensed a humongous ounce building in her contracted chest._

 _After a couple of whips, he slapped with the cane bluntly the desk by laying it as his callous hand shifted down to her small, perfectly shaped rear which once was as mossy and clean as peach until the welts, bruises and pink tints were illustrated as an artwork of his torture. Fingers traced the softness of her rear's flesh, relishing its silken delicateness._

 _Afterwards he dragged her violently towards the en-suite bedroom of hers where she spent the lonely and cold nights without a male companion._

 _"Are we having fun yet? Have you softened up enough to receive the light?" He threw her forcefully on the bed as she was groveling, gasping in pain again._ " _Except it won't be God..." He paused by kneeling on the edge of the bed, approaching her as she turned to face him, panting_. _The heart beats pulsated into her sensitive, petite ears which were coiffed in the wimple._ _"And, actually, it won't be light."_ _The distance of their faces closed its gap as she felt the light breeze of his foul-breathed mouth hardly brushing her frantic complexion as she expected the worst at last. His hand drifted to her wimple by yanking it in swift motion in no time, releasing her angelic halo ringlet of old Hollywood honey tresses, freely coating her upper back. Her honey brown pools were fixed on his disgusting complexion in horror as it was her ultimate chance to stop him by stabbing his neck with the letter opener, which she found on her bureau._

 _When the letter opener's silver edge ramming the crook of his neck, thick, marvelous cataract of blood spewed as his senseless condition commanded him by slumping, releasing the mortified holy woman of his bear trap at last. Her elbows propped her weightless figure in the middle of her compact bad, watching how Leigh laid on the floor in defeatist manner. Blood coated her hand after glimpsing at him, panting in weary way after self-defending herself against the psycho._

A handful of hours have passed since her catnap's episode.

Explicit, disturbing graphic images of the nightmare she had with her old foe, Leigh Emerson, dawned as variety of tinges tinted her tightly shut eyelids, muttering babbles which lingered on her tongue, whereas Timothy was beyond focused on his path. A waterfall of tears gushed down her cheeks, staining her pale as ghost complexion with layer of dew.

The blonde commenced wriggling as she wedged as a little child, who had a nightmare by fearing of the dark and the imaginative monsters, which haunted not only him, but also the room, itself.

Nonetheless Timothy heared her inward sobs which were audible for him, pulsating its unwelcoming tunes into his ears even when his attention was focused on his vehicle.

"Jude, are you alright?" He enquired anxiously as benevolent concern tarried his utterance, parking his car in the middle of the snowy path and turning to his former lover to check on her. Obnoxious concern was sketched upon his parchment, pale as snow face by scrutinizing the older woman's uncontrallable, hysterical demeanor due to the demons of her nightmares, crawling in her mind by plaguing its cells.

"Argghhhhh! Get away from me, ya hobo Santa Claus! I told ya, I don't have any times for yar games." The middle-aged lady bewailed in agony as Timothy extended his mammoth, creamy hand to cup her cheek as her sobs escalated, floating inside the vehicle as the sound beared a semblance of nails scratching hardwood desk or plank. Suddenly, she opened her eyelids, coming to the conclusion she wasn't dreaming at all by glimpsing at the extended hand which cupped her cheek. Her frail, quivering hand was placed on top of his which cupped her cheek. Thumb featherly traced her well-defined cheekbone as it wiped away the stray tears. "T-Timothy! Where are we?"

"You're in my car. I'm driving you to our new home." Her sobs subdued as soon as her gaze met his, locking up his soothing, affectionate chocolate brown pools which were transfixed on her. His heart ached to behold her in such deliriously vulnerable, unspeakingly despaired condition. "Shu, shu, shu, rare bird! Everything will be okay. You aren't in Briarcliff anymore and I promise the things will be better especially for you as you're now safe and sound."

Silence arched between the both adults as the almost former priest noted the pigments of its sparks, glinting her hazelish-brown irises of sorrow and horror, keeping its flame igniting inside in the visual altars.

Suddenly, the ice was broken by Timothy, who was beyond inquisitve the emanation of her nightmares and delusive babbles:

"Is everything alright? Did you have nightmares?"

"Yes, I had! It was," She stuttered, struggling to resume her exclaimation by sluggishly spelling the syllables, exhaling sharply as her dry throat agonized her. "Him! The murderous Santa Claus!" In the meantime, she murmured his name which lingered on her tongue.

"Leigh Emerson?" At the moment, the former sister of the church bobbed timidly her head, swallowing hard at the thought of her gruesome nightmare and the mortifying memory, she had with him when she was trapped and locked in her austere office with nobody else than her foe. "What about him?"

"I-I was in my office as you remember my old office. I had an appointment with Mary Eunice to enter my office and Arden lock the door and instead, Leigh was the visitor by not only violating and trying to rape me, but also I stabbed him in self-defense. I was locked in my office and trapped with nobody else than with this abominable human being." The former promiscuous nightclub jazz singer stuttered, nibbling on her bottom, plumpish lip as the younger man has already wiped away the last, drying tears which rolled on her cheeks as rain drops. Further, he was beyond disgusted and livid, due to the fact, the serial killer has attempted to rape and violate her. "Afterwards my goose was cooked as I fainted as I was disgusted by the blood and finding myself strapped on bed, being under your supervision."

"I can't believe what this monster did to you! I'm indeed sorry for hearing all this and you don't deserve the worst. Please, no sad faces and tears! The life is too short for so much sorrow."

"Everything is fine! At least, I'm grateful ya listened to me and I'm so relieved."

"I'm the more relieved one for hearing your story, Judy! I will make the brightest things to happen as soon as possible as this misery and fog of nightmares vanish in the thin air." He leaned against her by pecking a tender, feather kiss on the top of her head as his berry-coloured lips scooped her head. She relished the moment of the forehead kiss.

"I hope so! I hope I'm not living a lie anymore."

"You aren't living a lie, Jude! I'm the one, who allowed this mess to fog the light which God granted you. Sooner or later, Briarcliff isn't going to flood your mind with the bomb of obnoxious memories, which will explode to make you upset only and toy with your emotions and feelings." In this moment, his other colossal, smooth hand averted from the steering wheel by taking her petite, mildly trembling hand into his, perfectly fitting by dragging it to his face, peppering a platonically doting, soft kiss on her knuckles as her face flushed. "In addition to, we're near the half way to home until we eat something delicious together. Take a break and when we arrive, I will stop the car in the yard by opening the passenger car's door for you!" Angelic, beaming smiles flourished on their lips as the former man of the cloth attempted to persuade her the things will be alright as soon as they're at home. She nodded humbly, sheepishly her head, affirming his words as the warmness of the palm of his hand, which once cupped her cheek, felicity and calmness were tattooed on her face as he adjusted his position by carrying on with driving up to the two-story mansion without an ado.

Shortly after the car engine started as it buzzed, the former holy woman shut her eyelids as blinds by feeling her heart melting at the delicate, affectionate touch which her love interest gave her, as a result of the forehead and hand's kisses, besides the cupped cheek in the palm of his hand. It has been a long time since a man has treated her adequately unlike the majority of the men, who brought her rather trouble and messed up her life. Life, known as a dynamic roller coaster with abundance of adventures of trials, blocking her way to accomplish eventual felicity and holy light which she has hankered for ages.

 _ **To be continued...**_


	3. Home

_\- An Hour Later -_

An hour after driving in the snowy, nevertheless, aesthetically glacial paths in Boston's outskirts as Timothy was utterly focused on the driving process unlike his former lover, who was profoundly lost in her snooze on the passenger's seat as the coat was bracing her torso, warming it, he parked his car in his owned private property as its buzzing car engine petered out in the background, ringing tunes in the unconscious blonde's ears.

As soon as Timothy got from the car by slamming the driver's door and opening the passenger's one, the middle-aged lady rubbed with her frail, milky as vanilla fists her drowsy eyes, coming to her senses at last as a cramped, sheepish smile cradled her naturally rosy-coloured, perfectly shaped lips.

"Surprise!" The younger man evoked out as if his plotted surprise eventually surprised his crush on their first date. Serene, benevolent smile crawled beneath the curves of his berry-coloured, dry lips. "We're home, Jude!" At the moment, the former patient got from the car as they were starting to take things inside the two-story house as they commenced with the box of Judy's paraphernalia, afterwards the front door was unlocked by him and Jude was met with the corridor's lobby as 5 hooks, 3 oil-painted pictures of famous artists hung on the corridor's walls, adorning it. Cherry wood gents dresser for storing shoes, followed by a large-sized window as its closed curtains guarded the hall from the day light, which spontaneously dispersed through the glasses of the window. The light yellow walls ideally matched with the brich flooring. She was beyond overwhelmed by the mesmerizing, cosy scenery of the luxurious property as she was head over heels with it.

"Do I need to take off my shoes?" She enquired bashfully as she nibbled on her bottom, plumpish lip with her anterior ivory teeth as its teeth tips hardly grazed the silken skin of the lip.

"If you think so," He paused as he gathered pair of comfy, warm slippers as the former holy woman was taking off her old, soiled shoes as it felt pleasant by the way they were peeling off her petite feet. "Why thank you, Timothy!" Her heart molted by hopping up in the comfortable slippers.

"No need to! Are you peckish and thirsty?" He posed the question calmly, dangling his strong, muscular arm around her shoulder as she sensed comfort and warmness, building its invinsible layer, coating her flesh and goosebumps blossoming underneath the concealed body parts. In the interval, they walked inside the kitchen.

"Yes, very much!"

"Alright! For lunch, there's a tomato soup or polish sausages with vegeterian salad. What would you rather choose?" The former nun seated on the kitchen table as her lukewarm hands pawed the edges of the table, whereas the former Monsignor approached the refrigerator, opening its door.

"Tomato soup! May I have a glass of water, please?" She insisted politely, opting to not show signs of discourtesy, vomited in her demeanor and voice as she scratched reluctantly her head.

"Of course! Is that even a question?" He took the saucepan, pooled with tomato soup and setting it on the retro cooker as it allows it to zap it within a handful of minutes, taking off an empty, unused mere glass as he filled with it some fresh, cool water and handing it to his former lover.

"Thanks!" She immediately took the glass of water, sipping as the sips transformed into chugs, instantly gulping the beverage within seconds without an ado. The cool liquid revitalized her organs and body from its wasteland of dryness.

Her hazelish-brown orbs wandered, scrutinizing the kitchen. Each angle. Each furniture which embelished it.

Furthermore, her mind was flooded with thoughts as they resurfaced as icebergs in the glacial ocean especially questions. How long it has been since she has drank water? Patience enveloped her brittle heart, waiting for the lunch. She caught the glimpse of the clock, hanging over the cooker, indicating the current time as it was "12:30pm" in the wee hours of the noon.

Suddenly the ice was broken by Timothy, snapping Jude from her train of thoughts:

"Jude, could you please help me with the lunch preparation?"

"Sure!" She backed him up by getting from the dining table, ambling up to him as she gathered 2 silverware spoons and 2 round bowls for the soup, besides napkins, in case if they spatter the kitchen's lesen baby blue blanket, decorating it.

"Thanks!" She accompanied him as they were serving the requited stuff on the kitchen table for lunch as she placed a slice of garlic bread on each napkin.

As soon as the saucepan with the tomato soup commenced boiling, hence, Timothy stopped it by scooping a couple of times soup pool in every porcelain bowl, thereafter setting them on their seats and sitting on the table, having lunch at last.

"Bon appeti, Jude!"

"Thank you and you too!" The both former members of the church bobbed humbly their heads, expressing their gratitudes to one another as they begun masticating, relishing their first moment of interaction, shared in having lunch.

The initial minutes advanced in silence until the younger man asked in velvety, nonetheless indisputably concerned voice:

"Are you feeling better, Jude?"

"Yeah! Much better!" She replied in glassy, jaded manner as if she yearned to take a fresh, hot bath and catnap again.

"Excellent! You will feel much better after a fresh, hot bath."

The both adults couldn't repress sniggers, tickling the corners of their mouths after masticating the scooped portion of tomato soup, lingering on their tongues.

Searing heat crept underneath her plump, well-defined cheeks as sanguine tinge tattooed naturally its once pale tone.

 _\- Several Minutes Later -_

After the lunch process, they washed the already used, soiled bowls and silverware eating tools as the native Bostonian informed her former lover she's going to use the bathroom to take a bath as he guided her and lended her a plain bathtowel, besides cautioning her, in case, if she needs help to cry out loud.

As soon as she entered in the bathroom, subsequently she locked up herself inside the room by taking off each garment as it felt pleasantly relaxing by the way it peeled like snake of her flesh until she wore nothing else. In the interval, pantyhose, sweater, clean and new pair of lingerie and skirt on the hooks. As she twisted the bathtub's faucet, adjusting the pooling sea in the bath's warmness as her discarded garments and underwear were in the basin, seperated for dirty garments.

In the meantime, the blonde waited a split minute for filling the bathtub with hot water until she tested with a forefinger, thereafter stepping inside it. When the stark, nevertheless, pale as ghost figure's skin contacted the pooling bathtub, the middle-aged woman allowed herself her body muscles to relax ultimately.

What Jude hankered for was staying in the bath for hours, allowing the muggy water consume each inch of her bare skin as if it was decorticating it by a psychopath, whose passion was flaying the corpses of his victims.

At the moment, she applied honey shampoo on the scalp after soaking her lion mane of unkempt curly tresses, rubbing with her fingers, shampooing as its honey scent infected each strand of her mane. Thereafter she gripped the second sponge along with the jasmin soap, lathering it, brushing the sponge until it lathered, sleeving in bubbles and foam her bare body, cherishing its silkness which acquired.

A half an hour after the bath, she got from the bath by drying her body with the towel and dressed up herself in the recentpy prepared domestic garments, the middle-aged lady fled the bathroom, entering inside the bedroom which was linked to the bathroom.

As soon as she set a foot in the sufficiently expansive room, her honey brown orbs were greeted by 2 grandiose, hardwood bookshelves as Russian poetry such as Pushkin's saturated in the corner of her eye. Monumental king-sized bed.

In the meanwhile, she has chosen one of the books from the bookshelves by reading some Pushkin's books which included poetry as she was clung to the window, contemplating the snow, aesthetically hypnotizing snow landscape, portrayed outside. The hive of snowflakes tumbled down as a swarm of flying birds in the lucid sky. One of the fingers infixed the page where her current progress was, whereas another one scarcely brushed the window's glass, admiring its dazzling scenery.

 _ **To be continued...**_


	4. Confessions

As the former nun was pondering in her train of thoughts, peeping through the blurry window glass as her hazelish-brown orbs admired the extraordinarily glamorous winter's scenery outside, all of a sudden a handful of sufficiently loud door taps snapped her of her train of thoughts.

"Yes?" The blonde evoked out rhetorically, allowing her former lover to enter in the bedroom as he opened the door, subsequently shutting it behind him and tiptoed up to her as an angelic, soft smile curled upon his face.

"How are you now, Jude?" He enquired concerned as she turned to him, facing him as their eyes met, locking up his warm, reassuring chocolate brown pools.

"I'm well. Thanks! And ya?" She asked plainly, holding yet the book as Timothy glanced down, noting his love interest reading Russian poetry as his humongous inquisitiveness enveloped his heart and mind, trapping him with the childish curiosity. Exposing his another side.

"I'm fine even happier." His face softened as the reluctant glance transformed into stare in the antique, compact book cover. "What are you reading? Russian poetry?" Enthusiasm and felicity gathered altogether were vomited in his velvety voice.

"Yeah, I do. Why? Don't you like Russian literature?"

"Not at all! However, the Romantic era's poetry is spectacular and breathtaking." In the interim, the middle-aged woman just bobbed humbly her head, affirming his words as agreement was sketched upon her bob.

"I can't agree more. Let's not forget it's even emotional." At the moment, she walked away from the window, putting the book back in the grand, polished bookshelf as the younger man followed her. "If you aren't into Russian literature, therefore what kind of Literature is your cup of tea, Timothy?"

"Urm, Scottish, English, classical and medival ones!" Meanwhile, stuttered infected his tongue as he listed his favorite literature.

"That's good! My other preference as Literature could be French, German and ancient Greek ones." Afterwards she sat on the edge of the bed, stretching her arms as a casual yawn punched the palm's barrier, pausing before keeping on with her utterance. "Nevertheless, if we are talking about poetry, it's my passion, no matter the country's origin of the masterpiece."

At first, Timothy scarcely could believe he could get to know her since she has lacking trust in the former Monsignor and share some personal information especially interests of her as they didn't have any opportunity to get to know one another on more personal level when they served the church. Serving the church as servants of God, his chosen hallowed angels. Chosen hallowed angels, who have took their solemn vows since they have opened a new chapter in their lives as they join the church whether young or older. Business and their missions were on the very top priority list as they collaborated along as they didn't have any spare time for friends, family, lovers or anything else, associating as a part of the life.

Little did the British aristocrat know what were Judy's passions as well as the fewest things he knew about her were she was a marvelous cook, responsible and diligent employee, a native Bostonian and coq-au-vin was one of their favorite meals.

"What an interesting and wonderful preference!" He couldn't help but compliment her preference.

"How to not thank you!" A sympathetic, grateful smile blossomed on her soft as velvet, rosy-coloured lips. "Have you ever thought of going outside on the snow?"

"Now?" He raised an arch of his thick eyebrow as his temple crinkled in perplexion.

"Why not?" In this moment, the former member of the church sat alongside his former lover on the edge of the bed as the gap was sealed with their figures. "Can't ya agree the winter scenery outside is just lovely?" The former holy woman placed a hand on her chest as she glimpsed at the window and the tumbling hive of snowflakes.

"Indeed! Winter has always been my favorite season." Suddenly he placed on top of her petite, smooth hand his larger, surprisingly warm one, squeezing it as shivers electrified her spine and body, plaguing its vulnerable body muscles and its subtle nerves, earning the blonde's childishly inquisitve look, crawled on her still youthful, porcelain complexion. In the meantime, sanguine pigmented her cheeks as muggy heat crawled underneath her facial skin. "The sceneries are just magnificently breathtaking and you just cannot help but fall in love with the landscapes which the nature paints them outside."

"Exactly! Spring and winter could be my favorite as they're unarguably lovely by judging the atmosphere and their uniqueness as well."

"If you excuse me, they aren't as lovely as you, Jude!" All of a sudden, Timothy's direct response caught off guard the older lady as her honey brown irises widened at unspeakable surprise and disbelief.

"Excuse me? What did you just say?" Sanguine expanded its pigment all over her parchment face as she nibbled on the silken skin of her bottom, plumpish lip, staring into his chocolate brown eyes in disbelief.

"I said these seasons which you said are your favorite aren't as lovely as you, rare bird!" His smile progressed as a crescent form shape formed on his berry-coloured lips. What it struck the former woman of the cloth was their postponing to dress up in comfy, warmer garments as Timothy accepted her suggestion to go outside on the snow and instead, they were in the same room, receiving kindhearted, sincere compliments from the man, whom she just figured out the head over heels in love phenomenon occured again and corrupting her train of thoughts as the thoughts were railing and railing. "Aren't you eventually deaf?" He said in sarcastic manner, without opting to offend her or cause any upheaval in her demeanor, transforming it from peaceful and neutral into antagonizing and violent.

"I'm not deaf. But I've actually to say," She lowered her stare bashfully, demurely, eyeing the carpeted flooring, biting begrudgingly her bottom, plump lip once again, due to the immense intensity and embarrassment accumulated in the same time. "You are mistaken! Where are yar glasses to put them on and see what a hag have you brought at home?" She crossed one of her fragile, slim arms, expressing her frustration when it comes up to her physical looks and the compliments, addressed to them. At the moment, wry chuckle zinged her lips.

"Jude, Jude, do not talk about yourself like that!" He cupped her chin with a couple of long, adroit fingers as they were wrapped beneath her jawline, tilting her head to meet her gaze as her eyes darkened as if the devil and its vileness's spells glimmered through them. "I don't need any glasses to see your undeniable beauty."

A quarter an hour later the both adults went outside after changing themselves into warmer, comfy garments, matching with the frosty climate outside.

The thousands of sluggishly cascading crystal, tiny snowflakes danced in the sky just before they hit the ground as thick layer of snow sheeted the ground.

As they were outside in the grandiose yard, subsequently they started playing as rejoicing children, throwing at each other snowballs and squealing in euphoria as if they were in seventh heaven at last. It was part of the new chapter they have already opened of the sequel of their life. It was about their interraction and working on their toxic, nonetheless with brilliantly monstrous potential to heal one another and seek atonement from one another, although the trials' gravity having an utter control over the events and some ordeals, blocking their way at times from accomplishing ultimate happiness and peace. Happiness and peace as their main goals.

It has been a long time since they have showed their childish sides and most of all, playing outside on the snow whether with their peers or somebody else, filling their leisure time. It brought them episodes of recollected memories from their younger years, flooding their whirlpool of thoughts and most of all, their hearts aching due to the nostalgia.

Once they tickled one another with their gloved hands, consequently they slumped as their merry giggles left their lips, writhing their arms and legs as they were making snow angels as their giggles and voices were as whispers in the desert.

All of a sudden, Jude's optimistic smile which poised her lips ebbed at the thought of her younger years especially the last time that she played on the snow and recollected a piece of memory.

"I cannot remember exactly when it was the last time when I've played on the snow."

"Oh! Was it a long...long time ago?" He took a deep breath as his smile wiped off his young-looking, pale as ghost face, enquiring with apparent zest.

In the interval, the former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer's heart sunk at the thought of her childhood or slightly after that, due to the fact, the memories were as painful as the heavy medicaments which she was forced to accept in the nuthouse.

"Yeah! A long time ago. Probably before my nunnery or even before that! That was the time when I used to a nightclub singer." She swallowed hard, due to her grim past which haunted her up to nowadays especially when her reputation wasn't as superb and revering as when she was a sister of the Roman Catholic church. It was a gap on her flimsy heart, enveloped in soreful, timeless pain, sorrow and absent warmness.

"Y-You used to be a singer? That's interesting and amazing." A tad optimism lingered on his tongue as he vomited the caution. A slight, tenderhearted smile cradled his lips.

Mild exasperation cooked and brewed inside the former nun especially when the former Monsignor's blunt optimism for his liking for the notorious profession singer was recklessly expressed as if a child carelessly replied a high schooler it's cool to be studying in high school.

Her bottom lip as it curled, it pouted, heaving a jaded, dramatic sigh from the top of her flaring lungs as if volcano was surging its lava from her contracted chest's organs up to her nostrils.

"It's not as cool and amazing as you claim. I was just a mere singer in the local bars. I wasn't something like Elsa Mars or some of the old Hollywood ones. I used to be in a jazz band. In brief, my life was a chaos then."

"Oh! I'd like to know more about you and the past, you associate it with chaos."

"Well, I used to be a jazz nightclub singer until I joined the church to survive as I struggled and I didn't have my own home. Even more the alcohol and the one-night stands with the guys were the main medicines to anesthetize the pain of the heartbreak I've been through even if it was just only once."

"Oh!"

"The heartbreak emanated from the man, who I truly believed he loved me for what I'm actually but, but," She hemmed as salty dew pooled her brittle eyelids, tears verging to well in her irises as she has thought of her first love, who betrayed her and dumped her as a piece of garbage, besides giving her syphilis, preventing her from having her own children. "Little do I know until nowadays why he did it to me. I mean, why he was and seemed so unhappy with me as if I'm the core of his final motives?"

In the meanwhile, Timothy rolled on the other side as he took one of Jude's gloved hands into his larger, secure one, squeezing it tightly as the thumb kneaded the back of her hand, whereas the awkward silence was as piercing as the tumbling crystal snowflakes. The intensity escalated between the both adults especially when the former man of the cloth cupped his former lover's cheek into the palm of his gloved hand, admiring her ethereal, inescapable grace, naturally highlighting her elegant, authentic facial features.

"It wasn't your fault why he was unhappy man at all. What I can say, he isn't the man whose type of women like you would be his cup of tea. I mean, you're way too perfect to be owned by such a disgraceful asshole like him." It was hardly believable the former holy man cussed especially spitting it out directly as a serpent's venom, lingering on his serpentine, subtle tongue.

"He was asshole for sure! He's the reason why I'm childless and I can't bare anybody's baby. He literally cheated on me except he took away one of the things I've longed for ages to have."

"You're absolutely right! He isn't the ideal man for you as I can see exactly for who he is." Mild irritation affected his exclaimation as the thumb traced her well-defined cheekbone, fixing his warm, benevolent chocolate brown pools on her hazelish-brown ones, staring right at her soul. "I'm deeply sorry to hear all this and for what you've been through."

"It's not only that what you think and worshipping me as if I'm a saint, but also one night on my way to home as I was inebriated and lose control over my cab by delving in my purse for some cognac, thus I hit accidentally a young girl, dressed up in blue." One of her remorses was just confessed as she expected to be rejected and to be thrown away from his life along with the property for the rest of her days as he could think her of a vicious and intoxicated drunken whore. That was the blonde's version over Timothy's recent thoughts, resurfacing as icebergs in his mind. The tears sprung up into her eyelids freely, rolling down on her cheeks as the former Monsignor wiped them off from her porcelain, pale as ghost complexion, sniffling quietly to herself, grasping his hand into hers.

Heartache was the definition of what the younger man exactly felt at the moment. He has never pictured his love interest could have such gloomy past as his mind could contain it as a complex novel with galore descents, part of the roller coaster of her dynamic life with almost no light, guiding her to the right path and God.

"It's okay to cry, rare bird! I don't blame you for all this as you aren't a murderer and a whore as you might call yourself."

"Of course, I'm! Don't ya remember what the possessed poor boy Jed said during the exorcism as ya were dragging me from the room?"

 _"That's right, Father, protect your whore. That's right, Father, protect your whore. It's you she thinks of when she touches herself at night. Oh,yes. Protect your whore."_

"I didn't pay attention to it at all, because I know the evil always lies as it tried to test your patience."

"It didn't try to test my patience. It said exactly the things how they're." She rejoinded, sniffling uncontrollably yet even when Timothy was her last hope for finding comfort and light. "The devil knows everything and most of all, be careful what ya brought at yar house, Timothy!"

"Shu, shu, shu, Judy! Everything is okay and everything is going to be okay! The devil lies as always as you aren't a whore as it framed you the evil, itself. And I'm wondering yet what happened to the little girl, whom you hit in the late night incident." He wiped off the last gushing crystal, howsoever, salty tears as her sobs subdued, no longer levitating in the background.

"She's still alive, fortunately! The good news which I can break are the girl is alive yet with a baby and I saw her weeks ago. I've always prayed out my heart for her soul for ages, keeping my wits about her condition and what I did to her."

 _ **To be continued...**_


	5. Stories

All of a sudden silence arched between the both adults after Jude exposed one of the grimmest secrets behind the darkness of her past as gradually the fragments were scrapping. Timothy's heart sunk at the thought of the little girl, who was hit-and-run victim of a car crash by his love interest, howsoever, fortunately surviving as the sinister consequences were a couple of broken bones only and carrying on with her life until she grew up, subsequently having her own child.

"I'm so sorry for hearing all this with the little girl. Luckily, she survived and it wasn't your fault for befalling both of you. At least, she's family person with her own baby!" At the moment, he hasn't released his mammoth, secure hand from squeezing hers, in order to grant her double comfort and affection, she has longer from a representative of the opposite sex especially her former lover. "And that's why I doubt you're a bad person or considering yourself not a saint! What makes you even better person is realizing your mistakes. Can you guess what are you else than a good person?" The younger man kept on with his utterance, enquiring rhetorically his rare bird, transfixing his warm chocolate brown orbs on her, meeting her gaze without averting it, offering her a benevolent, alleviating smile, cradling his berry-coloured, dry lips.

"What?" Little did the blonde know what might be his impending word, itching his tongue's tip, in order to spit it out.

"You're a rare bird, Judy!" Suddenly he broke the ice, replying her as he couldn't suppress the drastic, realistic growth of his smile, sketched upon his still youthful, scarcely wrinkled complexion as his chocolate brown irises glinted sheer glee, sincerity as more vibrant pigments blazed, subsequently illuminating his true nature.

"I'm," The former nun stuttered, struggling to spell the syllables as they were dying on her tongue, casting a bewildered stare at him as electrifying sensations of his kindhearted words and the squeeze of their hands mingled altogether, throughout casting a spellbinding spell on the both former members of the church. "What?"

"You're a rare bird, Judy Martin!"

"D-Do ya truly mean all this? I mean, I'm a rare bird, according to yar words?" Sanguine pigment pigmented her cheeks as muggy heat crawled underneath the facial skin. In the meanwhile she pretended she hasn't heard them by glimpsing at the pale, hazy sky as the swarm of tumbling snowflakes tickled her nose tip and facial skin.

"Yes, you're! You're undeniably special woman, in my opinion! I've never met as special and strong woman as you're actually, besides you're my last hope which I'm obnoxously scared to lose you." Meanwhile, the former holy man took a deep breath as he cleared his throat, whereas his former lover was listening attentively his monologue as she was all ears, wearing a content, optimistic smile, honed up in the corner of her lips. "One of my solemn promises to keep my words true is never abandoning you ever again as I'm always next to you, supporting and respecting every decision of yours even if it's not compatible with mine."

"Promise?" She offered her pinkie, inquiring certainly as she seeked to take a solemn vow without thinking of forsakening her ever again, besides allowing himself being bamboozled whether by her foes or somebody else.

"Promise!" The British aristocrat exclaimed, hooking his pinkie around hers for a split second, looking up at one another's faces as they were admiring their ethereal, still young-looking, porcelain complexions.

Once they took a vow, throughout they got from the ground as they dusted their garments and coats from the snow which smeared them as they were commencing building their own snowman, sharing with each other stories about the crucial topic that recently popped up in their mind. The snowman.

"As a child, I adored to go outside and play with my small family even the fewest friends I've ever had on the snow. Not only we were building snowmen, but also we were throwing at each other snowballs and sliding with the sleigh and making snow angels."

"Aww, that's so nostalgic! I bet you did have some loyal friends even if it was just only one."

"They were rather 2 and as soon as I went to school in the first years, therefore they moved with their parents in New Jersey, due to personal reasons."

"Oh!" The younger man cried out, exhaling sharply as his sensitive nostrils flared, inhaling the glacial, fresh scent.

"As I was growing up, my mother didn't have enough spare time for me as I was playing all alone on the snow." In the interval, wry, quiet chuckle quivered her oral caverns. "At least, the good old memories are one of the reasons why I'm not losing any faith in my spirits. My mom used to be a maid in a hotel and that's why she was so occupied, besides taking double shifts and she passed away when I was only 18. While my father left us, when I was just five-year-old."

"I can't agree more about the memories! But I can't see why your father abandoned you and your mother especially when you were so young."

"He just thought we were too good for him and that's one of the solest reasons why he did it. He just did it!"

"I'd like to hear more about you, Judy! I'm curious to discover your another side if you allow me."

"Well, when I was a child, I brought and kept in a shoebox a baby squirrel as he was my sole friend. I named him Raphael. I was the only one, who was taking care of him." At the thought of the baby squirrel as a childhood fragment, suddenly dew moistened her eyelids as tears verged to spring up and well into her pools as her flimsy heart was gradually aching for the deceased animal. "One day, Raphael just looked sick. Perhaps I've forgotten to feed him for days and he was just left to die of starvation accidentally." As her exclaimation progressed, the middle-aged lady's sniffles flashed upon her face. "When I left his corpse on the kitchen table, thus I prayed my heart out for hours and as soon as my mothar got back from work as she was inevitably exhausted, she screamed like bloody murderer and threw the corpse in the garbage. I prayed and I prayed as I was completely sure God didn't answer my prayers. And guess what my mom said afterwards! God always answers our prayers and it's just rarely the answer we're looking for."

In the interim, the former man of the cloth swallowed hard as a solid lump has formed in his throat, wiping with a thumb the rolling crystal tears on her milky as snow cheeks as her sniffles diminished.

"God answers our prayers especially whenever the answer is simple or not as simple as it seems! I can't argue it happens rarely the questions we're seeking along with the answers they aren't answered usually." Meantime, Timothy fixed absently his head which was capping his dark hair, seconds before resuming with building the snowman altogether. "You helped me to recall one of the most painful youth memories either."

"Oh!" The blonde cried out as she was ultimately prepared to listen attentively her love interest's caution.

"When I was a teenager, I brought an untamed bunny at home and me and my siblings used to be home alone most of the time, looking after it. However, 2 weeks after gathering it from the forest, it passed away as this happened on the morning after before school, finding his corpse in the box."

"Oh! The poor thing!" Shortly after the both adults finished with building the snowman in the grand yard, thereafter the older woman approached the former Monsignor as she pecked a tender, feather kiss on his cheek as he returned the kiss with soft as velvet one, planted on her both cheeks. "At least, our babies are in heaven, watching us and smiling at us!"

"Definitely! I can already see their smiles and faces in the clouds as the heaven's barriers."

"Do ya want to go inside and get back in the yard later on? Probably tonight?"

"Why not?"

 _ **To be continued...**_


	6. Fireplace

Once the former devotional members of the church entered in the two-story house after playing on the snow, Judy went upstairs by changing the attires she used to wear outside before equipping herself with the pantaletot, scarf and gloves. When the blonde finished with dressing up herself, she hastily descended the stairway to the first floor, stepping in the kitchen, due to the fact she was longing to drink some water until her former lover's honeyed voice.

"Jude, I've a fireplace in the living room! Do you want to come?" The younger man enquired politely with a beaming, benevolent smile dancing upon his parchment, creamy as velvet complexion.

"Of course, but hold on a second!" At the moment, she took an unused, gleaming of sheerness glass from the high kitchen cabinet and subsequently twisted the faucet, allowing jet of lukewarm, fresh water pool her glass, thrumming inwardly, tunefully to herself. Warmness cemented her flimsy heart as its heart beats pulsated into her ears, when the British compatriot invited her in the living room to behold the fireplace.

Instead of replying her plain, blissful exclaimation, Timothy just bobbed his head in agreement, walking away from the kitchen as his impending destination was literally the living room, in order to wait for his rara avis.

Meanwhile, the jet of water vanished as it no longer cramming the kitchen sink as the middle-aged lady sipped her glass of fresh, cool water as its liquid laced her tongue and organs, gushing down as a cataract, drenching the dryness's barrens. Shortly after sipping her water, she promptly stormed off the kitchen and heading towards the living room until the middle-aged lady embraced by a couple of enthralling, breathtaking fragments of the comfort and pure warmness. The dancing flames in the fireplace as the woods were igniting. Ashes encircling them as a ritual circle. Balmy warmness levitating in the air. Conveniently, dandily adorned. The former holy man was seating in the middle of the black gothic leather sofa, awaiting for his former lover which caught off guard Judy as she verged to choke with the recently sipped water, compiling her throat. Her caramel brown orbs momentarily, exceedingly widened when she choked, wedging her lips in a reluctant purse as Timothy couldn't suppress a jubilant, embarrassing chuckle, zinging his lips as an ethereally timeless soul, dwelling out of a mortal corpse. In the interval, the former nun joined him, strolling up to him.

When she gulped the compiling water in her throat, thereafter Jude took a deep breath and leaving the glass of water aloof on the goth coffee table, joining her former lover's company on the couch.

"What an atmosphere!" Immense elation and wonderment were vomited in her soft whisper, nibbling on the silken skin of her bottom, plumpish lip. "Ya have never told me ya did have a fireplace especially here, Timothy!" She kept on with her exclaimation as Timothy stretched his mammoth, milky as vanilla hand, propping the couch backrest. In the meantime, their irises were transfixed on the dancing blazes in the fireplace, bearing a semblance of fiery sanctuary.

"It's a surprise, Jude!"

"Yar always full of surprises!" The former pious woman of the cloth emitted a hoarse, merry chuckle, curling her rosy-coloured lips.

"So as it's a surprise, don't you think it's marvelous, do you?"

"Definitely! It's more than marvelous." Meantime, she sipped her glass of water and then leaving it aside on the coffee table, exhaling abruptly.

"It's not as marvelous as your voice, Judy!" All of a sudden, the former sister of the church was dumbfounded by her former lover's kindhearted, velvety words as if she found herself being spellbinded by them at last. Ruddy pigment tinted her well-defined cheeks as sweltering heat crawled underneath her facial skin.

"Aww, really?"

"I truly mean it." Sheer sincerity lingered on his tongue as she ducked her head modestly as soon as he winked at her, taking her petite, soft hand into his larger, secure one as his thumb managed to knead the back of her hand. Paroxysm and electrifying shivers sweeped her frail skeleton and body muscles.

Indisputably unexplainable silence arched in the living room as they were relishing the serenity and the cozy ambience, molting their hearts as the blonde rested spontaneously her head on the younger man's broad, muscly shoulder, gasping begrudgingly. The fiery light's silhouette reflexed as dispersing sun rays on the carpeted flooring, gleaming their hairs and complexions. In addition to the grand French window's curtains were widely opened, permitting its day light to crawl through the window's glasses, bathing the room in pale, translucent light. Instead of apologising, the British aristocrat simply squeezed her hand, alleviating her.

"Everything is okay! Don't be shy for resting your head on my shoulder!" They found it for rather comfortable, when she was resting her head on his shoulder, utterly relaxing.

Suddenly the older woman's eyelids heavier ounce was building inside them, whilst her body was ultimately betraying her as if it wasn't hers. It lead to an eventual passing out, drowning herself in a catnap, keeping the former aspiring Monsignor's wits about the dead body's weight on his shoulder, persuading him that his rare bird has already been kipping just moments ago. Once he sensed her unconscious condition, he laid her on the couch gingerly without disturbing her and commenced to inspect warily her facial features, admiring her ageless, endless grace, oozing of her. The sleep she wore as her eyelids were tightly shut, slits shaped, bewitching his vulnerable, warm chocolate brown pools as a calm, affectionate smile hugged his luscious, berry-coloured lips. The sight of a senseless, slumbering angel was fogging his vision and fogging his train of thoughts with explicit, graphic images which he wasn't supposed even to think of them, despite he couldn't put a finger on them. Kissing her cheek and then shifting his lips, sealing them with hers in a doubtlessly steamy, hardening kiss, interweaving with the muffled in low voice as its decibels gradually were increasing moans heaved their lungs. Romantic and sultry cuddles as their bodies were pressed, contacting mossy flesh with another pair of mossy flesh, whereas their essences mingle altogether.

In the interim, her head was lying on his lap, diminishing the former man of the cloth's chances to get from the sofa in a jiffy as they peaked to minimal level.

"Rare bird!" The sole words that zinged his berry-coloured, dry lips sounded as a mellow, enticing murmur in the desert.

 _To be continued..._


	7. Coffee

\- _2 Hours Later_ -

2 hours after a relaxing catnap as the former sister of the church's body utterly relaxed, allowing its lethargy sedate her muscles and bones. All she could feel seconds before opening her brittle eyelids as they formed in slits shape, whilst shut that mammoth, surprisingly warm hands cradled her head in a hold and fingers caressing her halo ringlet of glossy old Hollywood aureate tresses, combing and twirling them. Her head was yet positioned on the former man of the cloth's lap as a black silky blanket was sheeting her passive body. Until Jude came to her senses by rubbing with her fragile, petite fists her drowsy eyelids, managing a mere yawn until she utterly opened her eyelids and she was embraced with the benevolent, soft smile of her former lover, swaying across his baby pinkish lips.

"Good afternoon, dear!" The first words that came to his mind to utter shortly after she came to her senses at last brought her a serene smile, honed up in the corner of her lips, whereas he leant as his baby pinkish, soft as satin lips grease her pale forehead, planting a tender kiss by contacting the lukewarm facial skin. She felt beyond flattered once he called her dear instead with her real name, sensing balmy heat crawling underneath her flesh as it hoarded in her flimsy heart.

"G-Good afternoon, Timothy!" The middle-aged woman mumbled in velvety, somnolent yet voice, lingering on her tongue and stretching her arms at the moment.

"You fell asleep in the middle of relish. Are you okay? Did you sleep well?" In the meantime, one of his colossal, veiny hands drifted down to her cheek, fondling it gingerly with his long, adroit fingers, enquiring genially.

"I did. I'm fine and everything is fine." The middle-aged woman replied serenely, exhaling sharply shortly before her response. "I didn't mean to fall asleep a bit too abruptly, but," As she proceed with resuming her sentence, she was suddenly cut off curtly in the middle of it, incapable of finishing it.

"No, no! Do not regret for falling asleep, dear!" At the moment, his fingers were still raking the silken gilt curls, consequently twirling and curling them. His honeyed voice was as soft as a chirping bird in the wee hours of the morning. In the interim, her eyelids frequently blinked like opening and closing blinds as the long, ebon eyelashes flapped like wings, relishing the delicateness of the platonic, pristine touches which sent electrifying shivers and paradoxal paroxysm down her body and spine of sweetness and pleasure. "Have you ever thought of cooking coq-au-vin together?"

"Why not? I'd like it very much as well." The truth was the older lady liked the concept of cooking coq-au-vin, their favorite meal. Not just by herself but with her former lover and boss in the same time as a part of taking the further step in their toxic relationship as it necessitated to greatly work on it. Furthermore, the former aspiring Monsignor was flabbergasted by the former Briarcliff's administrator response, factly, she may have trust issues and struggle to trust at any worth her former lover, howsoever, at least even the casual activities or collaborating along was bringing them back in the game as team players.

"I'm glad to hear this. What were you about to say when I interrupted you?"

"Ah, nothing! It doesn't matter anymore."

"In addition to when you were still asleep, I decided to blanket you as I'm really concerned not just about your health, but also about you in general."

"Aww, that's so kind of ya, Timothy! But it wasn't necessary at all." The blonde stubbornly retaliated as she nibbled on the silken skin of her bottom, plumpish lip begrudgingly. Nonetheless Jude genuinely appreciated Timothy's goodwill for being selfless and caring not only for her health condition, moreover for her as well.

"If you get ill or something, what I'm supposed to do then?" A rhetorical, grimly wry question zinged his berry-coloured lips as a ruefully sarcastic giggle escaped the blonde's lips after his rhetorical question.

"Whatever to feel better but I'm surprised how caring are ya eventually." Meantime, they peppered one another's cheeks with affectionate, feather kisses as their lips contacted their milky as snow facial skins. Thereafter the former pious holy woman unwrapped the blanket by leaving it on the sofa as they got from the sofa in a jiff and walking away from the living room as their imminent destination was the kitchen. "What time is now?"

"It's already five o'clock. It's almost evening." Timothy exclaimed out plainly as they set a foot in the kitchen and he picked up an empty kettle, subsequently turning the faucet as jet water was pooling it with fresh, cool water until a quarter a minute later he turned it off. "Would you care for some coffee?"

"Sure, why not?"

"With or without sugar?" In the interval, the younger man placed the kettle with water on the cooker to boil the water and gathering two empty, plain mugs from the upper kitchen cabinet and setting them on the countertop.

"With sugar and milk, of course!" Meantime, the former priest gathered another kettle by researching the refrigerator for milk and filling it, throughout putting it on the cooker to brew as the box of milk was returned back in the refrigerator.

"Sure! Do you like coffee?" Their hands were clawing the countertop, looking up at one another's eyes with platonic affection pigmenting them as the former woman of the cloth's pupils widened.

"Yeah but I don't drink it regularly."

"Alright! It's not healthy at all, in fact, due to its caffeine content."

"What about ya too, Tim? Don't ya like coffee?" The older woman posed the questions slyly with her firm Bostonian accent.

"I like coffee too just like you, however, I don't drink it daily if you get me, Jude!" He paused by swallowing a lump in his throat without averting his stare. "I drink coffee even in the middle of the night when I've astonishingly important tasks to do or otherwise being obnoxiously still sleepy and slothful in the morning." In the meantime, the former devotional member of the clergy managed up to the former nun's hand, taking it into his larger, secure one as the thumb kneaded the back of her hand delicately. Her porcelain, still doubtlessly youthful complexion flushed as sanguine tinges mottled and overspread.

"Oh, right! What about yar coffee preference? With or without sugar?"

"Without sugar since I don't like it at all. But I don't mind in my coffee as well."

"Why aren't ya into the sugar, Timothy?" The middle-aged lady bobbed her head meekly, faintly.

"Because they aren't my cup of tea with the sweets altogether." The British compatriot explained laconically as the former holy woman wedged her lips in a purse.

"Oh! I love them, despite I don't eat them a lot." The blonde's naturally rosy-coloured, luscious lips popped up suddenly as she bit her bottom lip.

Shortly after the milk and the water boiled, then the liquid and the spoon of coffee beans in the mugs mixed altogether until the kettle was filled with water in the kitchen sink, gripping their mugs of hot caffeine beverage and sipping of them, savoring them.

"I didn't mean to pry or to be way too inquisitive, Judy, but did your former fiancé say anything else as a bad word to you except whore?"

"It's okay, Tim! Ya shouldn't apologize for getting to know me better." In the meanwhile, the former licentious jazz nightclub singer sipped of the caffeine beverage again, licking greedily, gamely her coffee-stained lips with her wet tongue. "And back to yar question, he did."

"Go ahead, Jude!" He insisted to listen attentively her exclaimation, encouraging her without peeling a farther word to demonstrate disrespect to her.

"He called me a liar." All of a sudden, the Bostonian's inner voice of her former fiancé aggression whirled in her whirlpool of thoughts especially their last moments together after acknowledging she was infected with syphilis and being blamed for this. Her head ducked promptly at the thought of the abhorring words that were echoing through her conscience, enveloping her flimsy heart in obnoxiously incessant heart beats, pulsating into her ears.

"It's alright! You aren't a liar, nor a whore, rare bird! It's such a shame especially for him to not know your true value." At the moment, the younger man scooped in a tight, warm embrace, absorbing mutual warmness.

"He accused me for being a liar and a whore cluelessly, in fact, I was tremendously loyal to him and he was sleeping around with other women. Moreover, I've never got laid with another man to cheat on him." Meanwhile, the former holy man rubbed lovingly Judy's upper back, in order to alleviate her.

"I swear to God, if I see this hypocritical imbecile, I'll beat the shit out of him for hurting such a pure, loving and loyal soul especially as loyal and pure as yours." Timothy muffled a whisper with mild exasperation, gritting his firm, ivory teeth at the thought of Casey. His blood violently boiled in his veins like erupting volcano. The older woman's face was buried in the crook of Timothy's neck, inhaling inwardly the alluring cologne of his flesh and hair, unable to resist it and to not admire it even for a single second. "And what was his name again?"

"Casey!"

"Casey?" In this moment, the younger man grasped the scooped embrace as its firmness escalated, their chests were pressed on each other.

"Mhm!"

"He will pay for his deeds sooner or later especially whenever I see him in person. I promise I'll never let anyone to hurt you. Even Casey, himself!" Afterwards they broke off the hug by finishing their coffees.

"I'd imagine an ex-priest beating the ass and mop the floor with it after his defeat for winning the award of the year for being the most incredible asshole." The Bostonian couldn't suppress a joke, escaping her lips along with a husky, heavenly beatrific chuckle, forming a choir along.

"Jude!" Timothy joined her in a hoarse chuckle, tickling the corners of his lips as he choked with some coffee. "That's a bit too much, but I like this joke."

"I'm glad ya get and like it."

"At least, a punch into his face will be the lesson he will be teached."

"Definitely!" As soon as the former pious members of the church finished with drinking their coffees, throughout they washed them in the sink with the kettles.

 _To be continued..._


End file.
